


Celestial Bond

by Katryusha



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7123786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katryusha/pseuds/Katryusha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had nothing to go back to besides a broken Kingdom without no King. So, he wished for his King to come back, but how long until his wish is fulfilled?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this idea for a while… This will be kind of a mixing with some AU’s (I love mixing AU’s, sue me). This story was based of a song.
> 
> Not beta-ed.

“ _Alfred!_ ”

Blood was spilled.

Tears fell.

Screams were heard…

…And then silence took over.

* * *

 

The blond gazed down, mesmerized by the rolling tide, not caring about the tears streaming down his cheeks.

The sky was dark, but millions of little bright dots splashed across the darkness. He looked up at the sky with blurred green eyes as a sob rose from his throat.

He longed to go back to the stars, find his lover.

A light cold breeze passed by, stirring his hair and clothes. He shivered, hugging himself. He didn’t want to go back. Anywhere but  _back_ , there was nothing to go back too.

His green eyes hardened, narrowing. He didn’t care anymore.

“I _won’t_ go back.” He stated, glaring at the sea in front of him as if daring him to fight him about it, “Not unless—” _–he’s there_ , his expression softened and the need to cry arose again as his throat constricted, struggling to hold down a whimper.

His eyes closed tightly and he wished with all his might for the pain to _just disappear_.

Another breeze flew by and he felt himself falling forward, the water reached the tips of his hair and although he tried to fight the sudden urge to sleep that overcame him, he couldn’t… And sleep took him away…

_For a thousand lifetimes..._


	2. Museum Exhibit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-ed.

“People are still going crazy over this, huh.” Alfred mumbled as he scrolled through the news in his phone, every site talked about the not-so-newly discovered island in the middle of the Atlantic. Although it had been about 4 weeks since it was announced to the public.

It had appeared out of the nowhere... And people had gone batshit insane over it.

Alfred thought it was pretty cool too. There were actually rumours that this new island was Atlantis or something, but Alfred had a feeling in his gut that it wasn’t.

The American pocketed his phone and left his room to venture downstairs where his cousin was surely waiting for him with a dozen of pancakes.

Today was a good day, Alfred thought to himself with a grin as he sat down.

His cousin, Matthew, greeted him and he nodded at him trying to greet back through a mouthful pancakes. The Canadian wrinkled his nose in distaste but said no more, probably already used to his eating manners.

Alfred sipped a bit of his coffee, and grinned, the caffeine contributing for his seemingly never-endless energy.

They were going to a museum about the widely spoken island today. A few articles and artefacts were already in exhibition (and there it was a new way to win money out of people).

Alfred’s class was very lucky to get tickets for it, because the museum was always very full since it opened around 3 weeks ago.

Alfred burped and smiled sheepishly at his cousin’s disgusted expression, “Thanks for the meal, bro!” The Canadian waved a dismissing hand as he continued to eat his own pancakes covered in maple syrup.

The American left his cousin to finish eating as he tried to think if he needed anything today for school. He wouldn’t have classes, it was only to visit a museum, so… Alfred figured he wouldn’t need anything besides his house keys, phone and wallet, if anything happened he was sure his brother would have whatever it was needed.

“You done yet, Matt?” He called out from the entrance hall.

“Yes.” Came the soft but loud reply.

And out they went.

* * *

“Now, students, behave.” The teacher chided at the museum’s entrance and the students nodded absent-mindedly, more than ready to ditch the teacher and explore the museum on their own. They were (mostly) 17, for God’s sake!

As the teacher continued talking Alfred looked around, there were lots and lots of people wandering (and securities too), taking photos, and selfies. Stuck to a pillar was a poster about the coffin, of what they speculated to be, the King, with a photo and directions to where it was in the museum.

They didn’t exactly knew if it was the King that was inside, since, from what Alfred had read, the language these people had used was completely new and different hence there were many things still left to decypher (the island was still nameless!). They couldn’t open the coffin for some reason too (and they couldn’t just jam it open with heavy tools since they could damage it), so they could only speculate what was inside with their only guide the various patterns and sculptures that decorated the outside of the huge coffin of stone.

Alfred elbowed Matthew to catch his attention, the Canadian grumbled something under his breath and glared at him, the American smiled and pointed at the poster.

“Seems pretty cool, we should totally go check it out the second we enter!” Alfred was practically jumping up and down like an excited puppy.

Matthew made a half-heartened noise and wrinkled his nose, “Calm down, Alfred, we’ll have time to see everything.” He scolded lightly, “Besides, I would rather go see the clock and the sword firstly.”

Alfred tilted his head, tapping his foot on the ground impatiently, “What clock?” The sword sounded awesome, the clock not so much.

His cousin rolled his eyes and from his bag took out a flyer, opening it he showed the photo of a big round clock with a very detailed star in the background, some information was written underneath which Alfred ignored, his blue eyes going directly to the next photo of what Alfred had to say was an awesome looking sword.

Even though his heart was set in going directly to the coffin for some reason, Alfred decided he would instead go with his cousin see the clock and the sword first. He had time, he assured his uneasy heart.

They finally entered and even though the teacher had tried to get them all to stay together, the students dispersed, each taking a random direction while talking animatedly.

Alfred quickly followed after his cousin.

After taking a few more flyers from a shelf at the entrance (only because Matthew wanted them) they finally started strolling inside. Matthew had a map of the place and was walking confidently through the halls.

There were various exhibitors with random artifacts. Pieces of jars and other remains of relics, coins, old books…

Alfred couldn’t understand the wave of nostalgia that hit him when he first started seeing the objects. It actually even made him a bit dizzy.

“They had some pretty neat stuff, eh?” Matthew’s voice broke him out of his trance, he turned to look at his cousin and blinked stupidly for a second, his mouth forming words but not a single sound.

Matthew turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised and Alfred coughed and finally managed to get words out, “Yeah… I guess… Umm…” His Canadian cousin shoot him a confused look but then shrugged and turned to read the little information boards.

Alfred awkwardly glanced around, all kinds of people walked past them, all of them with a phone or camera in hand to take pictures.

They moved on, finally reaching the part where the sword and the clock were inside of exhibit cases of glass.

Alfred froze in his step as he saw the two artefacts, people swarming all around the two items.

He felt overwhelmed, his body shaking, his heart thumping loudly in his chest, his lungs struggling to get enough air, he felt like he was going to puke, his eyes darting everywhere to find an exit, but there was none, there were only people, people, people everywhere.

He could see Matthew trying to talk with him, brows furrowed in worry, but his body wouldn’t move, he couldn’t speak or make any sort of sound, his ears buzzed and his vision blurred and his mind blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm happy and not with this chapter, because i feel like my writing style sorta changed halfway through or something, although, yes, i started the chapter a while ago and only now managed to finish it, so it prolly changed, idk  
> Anyways, we begin to move, i think this was sorta rushed and shit... but-- oh well  
> Also, excuse me, but i don't know anything about museums tbh, it's all made up XD


	3. Opening of the Tomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahahah remember how i said i would update quickly?   
> i lied  
> sorrryyyy  
> lmao  
> but anyway, here it is finally :''''D and it's kinda big, so there :P
> 
> Not beta-ed

Matthew didn’t know what happened, his cousin seemed fine and then, suddenly, he was panicking, unmoving. The Canadian felt his insides twisting in worry as the American’s head dropped, looking down at the floor.

He attempted to talk with Alfred, shake him gently by the shoulder to make him snap out of whatever it was that hit him, but as soon as his hand connected with the other’s shoulder, the American’s head jerked up and his hand tightly grasped his wrist, Matthew gasped and stepped back.

Alfred’s eyes. They were different, it was as if they were a deeper blue… Magical, mysterious, and… strange, so, so strange, it was as if Alfred had suddenly aged beyond his years. Matthew felt his stomach drop, his body trembling in fear, what had happened to his cousin—?

The Canadian could only stare as those strange blue eyes darted all around as if searching for an enemy among all the people, his cousin’s body was tense and his grip around his wrist was so firm and strong. Matthew knew his cousin had strength, but he never used it like this, on anyone.

What was happening?

The American’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

“A-Alfred?” Matthew tried to speak with him.

Those eyes glared at him and Matthew winced as the grip got tighter.

Alfred didn’t reply, his eyes simply searching amidst the mass of people for something or someone, the Canadian didn’t know.

Should he call for help? Undoubtedly with so many securities around he would get help, but, it was his cousin, what could he say? “Help! My cousin has been possessed— or something—!” That wouldn’t work very well, Matthew bit his lip, thinking of what he should do.

However, he didn’t have to think much longer, since Alfred was then tugging him, pulling him over in the direction of the sword. Matthew scowled and tried to stop the other in vain. Alfred was too strong. He walked among the people with such regally and grace, not caring who stood in his way… It was scary. Very scary... Alfred was normally a bumbling idiot.

Matthew apologized at whoever his cousin practically stepped over to find his way. He tried again to stop him, however by then they were already in front of the glass case, and before Matthew could even open his mouth, Alfred punched the case, breaking the glass and grabbing the sword.

The commotion was instant, people screaming and running, thinking it was a robbery or something of the sort. Securities were talking over radios to warn others, and coming over to them. Matthew felt scared for his life and his cousin’s now.

“Drop the weapon and release the hostage or I’ll shoot.” One of them ordered, gun pointing at his cousin. Matthew’s eyes widened, his heart racing and thumping loudly against his chest, he could feel cold sweat dripping down his forehead.

“P-Please d-don’t hurt him— He’s m-my cousin!” Not the best thing to say, Matthew thought after the words had been spilled, but what could he do?

“Sir, drop the weapon and… your cousin.” The security corrected and Matthew rolled his eyes.

He glanced at Alfred, who was staring at the guns unfazed, expression strict and then, seemingly understanding that the guns were a threat, he held up the sword in a defensive position. Matthew saw his lips moving, muttering something, his blue eyes beginning to shine, the blue getting lighter and lighter—

_Bang!_

Matthew felt his heart and breath stop completely for a second, eyes shut tightly as he waited for something to happen, but there was nothing.

Hesitantly, he opened his eyes to see a bullet frozen mid-air, right in front of his eyes. He had somehow moved in front of Alfred subconsciously. Matthew screamed and fell back on his ass. The American wasn’t behind him anymore, instead he was at the other glass case, breaking it to get the clock.

Matthew looked around, everything was still. He felt overwhelmed, dizzy, nausea settling in as he doubled over on the floor, panting heavily, his head was spinning and pounding.

Why was everything still as if frozen in time?

After he regained his bearings, the nausea disappearing a little, he glanced around, everything was still as unmoving as before and Alfred was nowhere to be seen.

Matthew stood up shakily, he could only guess that Alfred… as surreal as it seemed… used magic…?

What was happening to this day that had started so well?

Matthew pinched himself just to be sure that this wasn’t a dream.

Oh, if only…

The pain in his wrist was very real too, his wrist had red marks that later would definitely become darker. He winced as he touched the tender flesh.

Ignoring his wrist for now, he observed his surroundings, being careful to avoid the bullet in mid-air, he walked around, fumbling, trying to decide which way to take. He needed to find Alfred, quickly.

He avoided the shards of glass on the floor and darted to the next room, and the next and the next, until he finally found Alfred kneeling by the tomb, running his fingers through the various little sculptures around it. He had a fond but painful smile on his face, tears were streaming down his cheeks.

Matthew approached him carefully and as soon as Alfred took notice of him, he didn’t hesitate to reach for the sword and turn to him menacingly. The Canadian stilled, raising his hands, showing that he meant no harm, the American didn’t seem convinced with the way his features soured, but his shoulders did lose some of their tension.

The Canadian remained where he was lest he made Alfred… It was Alfred, right? Or—? Well, it really couldn’t be his cousin right now. It was somebody. A stranger using his cousin’s body.

Matthew couldn’t believe he was thinking this, seeing this, living this. It seemed so fake, but it was also real, it was happening, but he didn’t want to believe it.

“Alfred?” He tried again, those blue eyes stared down at him, even though he and Alfred were pretty much the same height, he felt small in the presence of this... person…?

“Who are you and how do you know my name?”

Matthew’s body shuddered, that voice... it wasn’t Alfred’s voice. It wasn’t his cousin’s voice, it was deeper, rougher, it had a strange accent and it wasn’t playful. It was serious, stern.

The Canadian bit his lip, arms lowering, he stepped back, hesitating for a moment before licking his sudden dry lips and shakily start talking.

“I’m M-Matthew… Alfred’s c-cousin…” Oh, he wished he had brought his polar bear plush with him, call him childish, but it made him feel safer. Instead, he was left to grab onto the hem of his hoodie, feet shuffling on the cold white marble floor.

“I don’t have a cousin.” That voice sent chills down Matthew’s spine.

“Erm…” He didn’t know what to say, his whole body was trembling in fear.

Alfred didn’t wait for nothing more from him, instead moving to the feet of the coffin while muttering something under his breath. Matthew didn’t move from his place, deciding on the safe route of staying still, if only for now.

The Canadian watched Alfred’s eyes harden, sword held high and then swinging down across his palm. Matthew flinched and gasped, stepping forward again, his eyes widening as he saw the blood starting to leak from his cousin’s hand. He almost wanted to start yelling at the other, but he refrained. Who knows what he would do?

Matthew couldn’t exactly see what Alfred was doing from his spot, he observed how his cousin lowered down his bloodied hand to something on the coffin. The sight of the blood was enough to make his nausea come back, Matthew placed a hand over his mouth and turned around.

“Oh, God…” He breathed shakily, his head hurt, his throat and stomach burnt. The smell of the blood reached his nostrils and that did it. Matthew doubled over and puked all over the floor, he coughed, tears prickling his eyes. He felt sweat dabbing his forehead, his clothes sticking to him, his hands were shaking and he was sure he was as pale as a ghost.

Matthew sat down on the floor, avoiding his puking, and panted. Why was all this happening…?

He heard the low murmurs behind him, from his cousin. He didn’t look. Matthew simply sat there, trying to not grimace at the taste in his mouth and how he had just thrown up his breakfast at a museum.

The Canadian reached into his bag and retrieved a packet of tissues to clean his lips. His body still hadn’t stopped trembling—

_Thud._

Matthew froze, completely, once more. He turned to look.

The coffin had been opened. The large cover of stone had been removed with so little noise it was astounding. Matthew stood up, fearful but curious. Alfred seemed to be too focused on whatever it was that was inside the sarcophagus to notice him hesitantly approaching.

Inside of it was a man.

But, not a dead man. Not a skeleton or a creepy mummy. It was simply a blond, pale man. A very much alive man what with the way his chest rose and fell. He seemed to be merely sleeping.

He eyes darted from the blond man to Alfred. His cousin was crying even more now although there was a smile on his face. His hand released the sword in favour of reaching down to caress the sleeping man’s cheek, his hair…

Matthew, somehow, for some reason, felt his heart throb painfully at the sight. He had never seen such a sad yet happy expression on Alfred’s face. He was murmuring something, but Matthew was too far to listen properly, and then his head jerked up, expression becoming stern.

“Take him with you.” He said in a commanding tone. The Canadian trembled and nodded with a gulp, “If he gets hurt. And, I’ll know if anything happens to him. I will kill you.” Matthew stilled, nodding once more, he felt a sudden weight on himself. A very heavy weight.

The Canadian approached the other warily, ignoring the stench of blood and wondering what the hell was he getting into and how the hell was he going to get out.

Matthew looked over the small, slender man inside the coffin, but his eyes didn’t wander for long as he jumped startled at a growl from Alfred. Of all people, he had never expected to be growled at by his cousin. 

“There’s not much time left.” He spoke, continuing to glare at him, maybe not seeing other choice but to trust Matthew, “Take him. Take care of him. Go. Everything will return to how it was before soon.”

Matthew said nothing, bending down to retrieve the man. One hand beneath his shoulder blades and another underneath his knees. The sleeping man was strangely light. The Canadian felt Alfred’s hard stare on him, heard him approach… Matthew swallowed dryly, hoping he wasn’t about to get killed.

Alfred kissed the blond man’s forehead before stepping back. Matthew looked up at him, his glasses were starting to slid down his nose and he ignored the itch to fix them. He was definitely taking Alfred’s threat seriously.

His cousin looked towards the exit, Matthew followed his gaze and then snapped to look back at Alfred.

“You have to come too.” He whispered shakily.

“I will.” He stated, “After you go.”

Matthew believed him and started to walk away. How was he going to get home carrying a man dressed in old, rich clothing like this? It seemed he would have to call a cab.

For now, Matthew was just going to pretend that everything was all right. There was nothing wrong. His cousin wasn’t possessed by some sort of spirit. His cousin didn’t just stole two ancient artefacts, opened a tomb with his blood and retrieved an actual living human out of it. The man on his arms was simply a friend whom he didn’t know the name…

Once he got home however, he knew he would freak out and probably either faint or break something or both.

What a lovely day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so hard to guess who it is, wow -q


	4. Dream of Mirrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heylo, i had this chapter finished since yesterday, but i was too lazy to read it over and stuff, so it’s only being posted today, lmao. 
> 
> btw, here i'll be using the new outfits that Hima drew for alfred and arthur, idk if they're cardverse or not, but whateves, you can see them if you search "cardverse usuk" or "cardverse aph america and aph england", anyway, it's these cute outfits which are pretty much (from what i've seen of a fanart) lilac and white or something, they're cute, period. 
> 
> Not Beta-ed.

Alfred, by this point, was thinking that he had gone insane.

One second he had been after his cousin and the next he was in a room filled with mirrors everywhere. Left, right, front, back, up, down— _Mirrors everywhere._ All sizes and shapes.

And the mirrors showed images. Images that kinda looked like memories of someone, but it couldn’t be him, right? He didn’t remember any of this. Alfred had no idea what was going on.

Sure, there were some that showed things he did remember, like the one where it showed that he had fallen of a tree and broken his arm. The one where Matthew had ranted at him for three hours, listing all his flaws and making him cry. The one where a girl on seventh grade confessed to him (and he had rejected her).

And then there were other images. Images that seemed to be from a movie. Some sort of fantasy movie. There were stars and the earth seen from far away as if from another planet. There was magic, there were ladies in big fancy dresses, and guys in fancy outfits as well. There was a man that appeared a lot. A slim, blond man with bright green eyes and very big eyebrows. It was the person that appeared the most.

Alfred was confused. Very confused.

And then, there was blood, death, battles, war… Darkness.

“Have you ever felt the future is the past, but you don't know how...?”

Alfred jumped at the sudden voice. Heart momentarily stopping and then beating wildly in his chest as he looked around in search of the source of the voice.

And then, there he was.

Another man, blond with blue eyes and glasses, dressed in fancy clothing as well. He had his hands clasped behind his back, and was looking down at him with a stern expression.

“What—?” Alfred stuttered out.

“A reflected dream of a captured time, is it really now, is it really happening?” He continued. Alfred rose an eyebrow, head tilting to the side.

This person was… strangely familiar. His voice, his appearance…

“I think I’ve heard your voice before…”

The man’s lips quirked upwards slightly as if amused. He stepped forward, looking around at the mirrors. His expression turned bitter.

Alfred blinked, “Am I dreaming?” He asked himself out loud, the strange man hummed, but didn’t answer him either.

The American gritted his teeth and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the man.

“Who are you? Where am I?” He questioned with a growl. He needed answers, and he needed them now.

“I’m you.” The man replied bluntly.

Well, that put him off track. Alfred sputtered and leaned back, mouth agape.

“What—?! No, you’re not! I’m me, not yo—” The American bit his lip to stop his stupid ramble. What the actual fuck was going on? Alfred shook his head and stared at the other, “Who the hell are you? Where am I?!” He repeated, feeling light-headed.

The other man seemed to be fading or was it just his poor vision—?

“It’s all right, Alfred. I won’t be around for much longer. Just…” The man paused, “Please don’t leave him alone.” He pleaded with tears in his eyes.

Him? Him, who? Who was the man talking about?

Alfred felt like his world was spinning, becoming fuzzy and misty and then everything was dark, but there were hundreds, thousands of images twirling through his mind like a movie.

Had he dreamt this time, this place? Had he seen this face, seen this room, been in this place?

He felt like he was floating in the darkness, there was nothing, but at the same there was everything. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t move, or speak, but at the same time he could do everything and much more.

Had he said those words before? Was he still in a dream? Or in a new reality? Was he finally losing his mind—?

Alfred felt lost in a dream of mirrors, lost in a paradox. Lost, but time was still spinning, he could hear it ticking… And then—

He couldn’t.

There was nothing.

And then he was sitting up, feeling cold sweat dribbling down his skin, he could feel himself shaking. The American stared down at his trembling hands. What had happened? Where was he?

Alfred looked around wildly, visibly relaxing once he noticed he was back in his bedroom. But, how had he gotten here?

He stood up from the bed, feeling almost as if his head was about to crack open, he winced and gritted his teeth.

The American wobbled down the stairs, calling for his cousin.

“I’m in the living room!” He heard the Canadian’s soft reply.

He didn’t know what he was expecting when he got to the living room, but the unconscious man on their couch definitely wasn’t part of it.

Slim, pale, big eyebrows, blond man. With green eyes, he was sure. It was the same man he had seen in… In what?

Alfred sat down on their other couch, next to Matthew, with the worst headache he had ever had in his life. His mind was a jumbled mess, he could feel his cousin’s concerned stare on him.

“What the fuck happened?” He uttered, standing up to get some pills for his headache.

“Well,” Matthew started, clearing his throat, “I’m not really sure either, but…” The Canadian waited for Alfred to come back to the living room after downing two pills to gesture to the television.

It was on a news channel.

“Two artefacts missing and the “ _impossible_ ” to open tomb had been opened and possibly robbed as well. No one is injured even though there’s broken glass and a bullet. No one remembers anything and there’s no evidence of the burglars.” They said, Alfred gaped. Looking at Matthew then at the man in their couch.

“Wha—?” Alfred couldn’t wrap his head around the situation. He could remember little to nothing of what happened. He settled his gaze on his cousin, waiting some sort of explanation.

“I was there. I know what happened, but I have no idea why it even happened or how. You were the one that went _batshit_ insane, Alfred.” The Canadian informed, but the American simply stared at him.

“I… Hum…” What could he even say? He barely remembered anything!

Matthew sighed, “I don’t understand what happened, but it seems like you’re still not yourself. Let’s speak when you’re feeling better. I almost died because of you, you asshole.” He elbowed the American playfully, trying to cheer him up, but it didn’t really work.

“I’m… I’m going to sleep some more…” He said quietly before standing up and making his way to his bedroom, but before he could get too far, his cousin called out.

“What am I supposed to do with this guy? Mom should be arriving home soon, I can’t have her come in and see an unconscious, strange man on the couch!” He shouted, making the American freeze in his steps, wincing slightly at the loud tone.

“I’ll take him to my room. He can sleep with me.” He said bluntly, as if it was natural, Matthew stared at him like he had grown a second head, “What?”

“Alfred!” The Canadian chastised, cheeks flushing lightly, “Do you even hear what comes out of your mouth at times?”

The American tilted his head to the side, a brow raised before simply shrugging and stepping back to pick up the strange man.

His weight was strangely familiar— Alfred shook his head. How the fuck can a person’s weight even be familiar?! He _definitely_ needed to sleep more. And it’s not like he was bothered if this guy slept in his bed with hi— Okay, he was starting to get Matthew.

Once inside his bedroom, he placed the man on his bed and stared at him. Alfred had the oddest need to caress his pale cheeks and run a hand through that messy blond hair, his hand even reached out to do just that, but he stopped himself. God, was he becoming some sort of creep?!

His hands found their way to the man’s fancy and uncomfortable looking outfit, undoing the bow and slipping the heavy garment of him. Alfred was halfway done with taking off the cloak when he noticed what he was doing.

“Fuck—!” Alfred slapped a hand over his face and groaned, jaw clenching at the shrill of pain that that made to his aching head. The American looked over the other and blushed at what he had been doing. He had been undressing the other as if it was normal to do so.

Alfred wanted to throw himself out of the window right then and there. Instead, however, he reasoned with himself. The man would be more comfortable without the extravagant, tight clothes. Alfred would just be helping him. Yes, that was it. Just helping a random citizen like the Hero he was!

Alfred took off the man’s boots and heavy lilac cape, along with the little hat and the bow around his neck. The American noticed then the small clock dangling from the man’s neck, he opened it carefully, staring in awe at the intricate designs of the interior of it. Too bad that the clock wasn’t working.

Alfred pulled it off as well and placed it on his desk. It was strange how the man hadn’t woken up yet, with all the rustling and everything he should have at least stirred, but there was nothing except the calm up and down of his chest signalling his breathing.

The American didn’t dare to take off the man’s shirt and trousers, Alfred simply tucked him in beneath the sheets and blankets and then made himself comfortable as well next to him.

Alfred would’ve thought it creepy to sleep with this strange, unconscious man in his bed, but instead he felt a slight relief to see him close to him. It was stupid, illogical, because he knew nothing of the blond next to him.

What if he was a cold-blooded murderer or something?!

Alfred shook his head, in his heart, he knew it was nothing like that. Still, it was odd having someone else in his bed, unconsciousness aside, everything in the situation, actual situation of the two of them in the same bed felt right to him.

Alfred could literally feel his brain frying from overthinking this so much.

Was it weird? Yes. Was it wrong? Maybe. Did it feel wrong? No.

Alfred bit his lip and gazed at the blond next to him who was sleeping peacefully. The American found his sleep coming to him quicker than he anticipated.

**Author's Note:**

> I still only have the prologue, although the first chapter is close to finish... :V  
> Rating it T, but it may change later on.  
> More tags will be added later...


End file.
